{2022 WATTY SHORTLISTER} {18+ COMPLETED}
England, 1842
Lady Hutton, otherwise known as Penelope Chapman, cares not that her husband has a wandering eye. That is, until he wanders away completely--all the way to the continent with his mistress, wh...
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Becket swirled his scotch in his glass as he sat across from Griffin.
If someone had told him that he and Griff would be in this position, sharing an after-dinner drink in the parlor of some grand countryside estate, he would have likely told them to sod off.
For different reasons, they were not men made for parlors. They were made for ships and temporary encampments. Small apartments in London when they did escape the water.
Not that Beckett truly wished to escape the water. He missed it, actually. Hoped it wasn't long before he returned.
And yet....
There was a stirring in his gut at the thought.
And he suspected he knew why.
Penelope's laugh rang through the air, and unlike the other times when he had watched her entertain, this laugh sounded genuine. She was in the middle of a rather fierce-looking game of chess with Lord Farrington, and based on the look on Farrington's face, Penelope just made a winning move.
Her breath caught as she watched his rebuttal, making Beckett ache.
That sounds. That tiny, obscure sound.
She'd made it when he thrust into her.
She'd made it when he pulled out of her.
She'd made it when he traced designs on her back while they were falling asleep.
He rather liked that sound.
Griffin sighed. Loudly.
"Can you please quit ogling my sister in front of me?" he grunted. "It is rather disconcerting."
Beckett's attention shot back to his friend. He had been careless lately. His focus and attention revolved almost entirely around Penelope, meaning that he hadn't thought much about the consequences of precisely that.
He hadn't thought about her brother. Or about his duties.
He was immediately ashamed.
"I am not ogling her," he argued.
"You were staring."
"I was making sure that nothing was wrong...as is my job."
"She laughed," Griffin emphasized. "And she is with Farrington of all people. They have long been friends. Not to mention, he is also a well-known acquaintance and accomplice of the crown, so I honestly do not know why the queen felt your presence was even necessary."
Beckett had thought that same exact thing on more than occasion. But hearing Griffin say it was oddly grating on his senses.
"Her Majesty knows I am highly skilled."
Griffin snorted. "Is that why we are still here, then?"
All Beckett could do in response was grit his teeth.
